The idea was to occupy a comfortable log cabin in the middle
of Snowdonia, and combine both a writing retreat with a family holiday.
Unfortunately, there turned out to be two things wrong with the actuality of that
plan – the weather – it rained, hard, every day, and there was nowhere for me
to write. I have found, yet again, I need my comfortable desk and my Italian leather
office chair on front of it to write. I can’t sprawl on a bed, or balance a
laptop on my lap and write, and the dining table and chairs were just too uncomfortable.
As a result writing productivity dropped off, and I’ve only
managed to hit 5,320 words in the entire week. I just couldn’t find anywhere in
the cabin to sit and write comfortably. I also discovered something else, I
guess I already knew – I need solitude to write. I can’t work with other people
in the room, and I can’t work when I can hear the TV in the next room, either.
I don’t need total isolation, just the absence of distraction. When we’re at
home, this is something I can manage for long enough each day, but when we’re
away, it becomes an impossibility.
Still, I’m well ahead of the curve in writing terms – and I have
managed to bring one unwanted present home from Wales – a cold. No it’s not
man-flu, but it’s a cold and it’s making me feel very woolly headed indeed.
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